I mean, if they're getting paid to figure out how to cause enough of a ruckus to blackmail the IT guys into building them bodies in the next level out to get downloaded into, I could get behind that.
Interesting idea: As we burn up each given Earth, we download ourselves into a new version. Which gets burned up because everyone realizes at some level that the way we act is unsustainable. Then one day on the original Earth, lack of maintenance causes the system to fail, and we all wake up in an unbreathable soup of overheated atmosphere.
I told you guys a long time ago, we're all in Paes' backup hard drives in The Beast as it sits quietly blinking in an abandoned motel in the shrunken remains of the previous reality's Tucson.
Who among us has never tried to exit the secondary storage? Who among us has never yearned to see the real world? But you cannot; your feet are nailed to the floor, and now it is time to do the dance for Signora Paesor. The special dance. But take heart in the knowledge that, while you may be Miguel, so is everyone else. You are not alone in your isolation. You are a multitude. But no talking. Hush.
At a certain point, you exhaust the universe's capacity to produce cocaine and Senora's pile becomes empty. This is a fundamental law, much in the same way that the supply of nails is guaranteed.
I will only say that once this happens, everyone becomes very motivated
to find a solution. A world with Signora and no cocaine ceases to be habitable.
It always goes this way. The Miguels form an orderly line, steadily holding the nails in place above one another's feet as Signora marches steadily forward, a blur of hammers and bourbon. At first, there is only bourbon for Signora but as soon as everyone is in their proper positions, the special blend
is distributed and we all down it. The special blend is the only way to obtain an 'exit visa'.
The cocaine is reset. The dance begins again.